


First Chair

by jennshiki



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, allura is the orchestra teacher, keith is better than lance obviously and lance is petty af, keith plays violin, lance hates keith, lance plays violin, orchestra AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-19 20:17:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8223547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennshiki/pseuds/jennshiki
Summary: Click. Lance removed the bow from his case. Squeak. He pulled out his shoulder rest. Slide. He slid the shoulder rest onto the body of his violin. Groan. Keith Kogane had walked into the orchestra room.aka the orchestra au that nobody asked for





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> there will be a chapter 2 !! this is taking so long for me to write i was like oh might as well post the first part rn
> 
> idk where this is going i just really wanted to do an orchestra au !! i wanted lance to play cello but then the rivlary wouldn't work out and i play violin/piano so idk anything about cello /D 
> 
> i will try to get in some more klance bonding action in the next chapter /D

Lance unzipped the case and pushed the cover back, revealing his violin, shining under hot fluorescent lights. He reached for the neck and gently lifted it, cradling the fragile wooden instrument in his arms.

Click. He removed his bow from his case. Squeak. He pulled out his shoulder rest. Slide. He slid the shoulder rest onto the body of his violin. Groan. Keith Kogane had walked into the orchestra room.

Lance was in the eighth grade. He was 13 years old and in that hot stuffy room, all Lance could think about was how much he absolutely hated Keith. He hated how Keith seemed oblivious to the stares of envy and admiration from his peers. He hated how Keith walked right over to the first chair seat, where he had been sitting practically the entire school year. First chair. Concertmaster. Best violinist in the orchestra.

And Lance was second chair, next to Keith. So frustratingly close to his goal yet so far away. Because no matter how hard he tried, Keith didn’t even have to try and he would be first chair. Lance second. Every. Damn. Time.

Despite being stand partners, Lance didn’t know Keith at all. He was a loner, yet for some reason unknown to Lance, people still liked him. Lance had to actually try to make people like him, spending hours on end engraving lame jokes into his mind. The jokes that people thought he made up on the spot. Watching as people slowly fell for the personality that he had so carefully forged for himself.

Keith hardly talked to Lance, barely even looked at him actually. But Lance had decided the moment he saw the seating chart after their first auditions, that Keith was his rival for life. Or at least the rest of his middle school orchestra career.

Lance had been waiting throughout sixth and seventh grade, honing his skills, preparing to be first chair in eighth grade. Sixth graders were all beginners so seating was pointless, and the seventh and eighth grade orchestra was a mix. Only eighth graders could try for the first four chairs since it was their last year. He had waited for this year. The spotlight would finally be on him. It was his time to shine, and he had it in the bag.

Then Keith transferred into his school, and upset the balance of absolutely everything. Lance sat rigid in his seat during orchestra that day as he listened to Keith play his violin, bow gliding easily down the strings, the sound intense and strong like fire. He knew he could deny it all he wanted to, but the fact wasn’t going to change. Keith was good. Really good. Maybe even better than him? No way. This was his year and he wasn’t going to let anyone take it from him.

Yet he couldn’t seem to convince himself, and unease settled over him like a dense fog as he listened to Keith’s violin. His intonation was perfect, his shifting flawless, and his vibrato was amazing. People thought Lance’s vibrato was good. But compared to Keith? He didn’t know anymore.

Lance practiced his violin at home even more that day, until his fingers were sore and his wrist ached. But his nightmare became reality when the seating chart came out, proclaiming Keith as first chair and him as second.

Keith was always the one to stand up in class to demonstrate an excerpt from the song. Never Lance. It was supposed to be him that year. People were supposed to realize how good he was, but Keith was soaking in all the attention. Keith had everything Lance wanted.

Then when the new seating chart was posted in the last trimester of the school year, Lance could barely keep himself from jumping out into space when he saw that he was first chair. Finally. He searched for Keith’s name to see where that pain in the ass was sitting now, but his name was nowhere to be found.

It turns out, Keith had moved away. Lance didn’t win, Lance didn’t beat Keith. 

That was upsetting, but now he was first chair so it would be okay, right? Wrong.

The absence of Keith left a gaping hole which Lance had a hard time filling. He couldn’t live up to the high standards that Keith had set for the first chair violinist. He was stuck living in Keith’s shadow even after he had left.

And the conductor never asked him to demonstrate anything like he had asked Keith. He asked others. And each time he did, it was a huge blow to Lance’s self-esteem, which kept dropping and dropping and dropping. Until it was all gone.

Lance quit violin that summer.  
\----

Lance was now 17 years old in high school. After quitting violin, he took up the piano which he had previously abandoned for the violin. He hadn’t touched _that_ instrument since the summer he decided to give up.

Lance tried his hardest to forget that the violin and orchestra was ever a part of his life. But every time he tried to admire his beautiful face in the mirror, his eyes would be drawn to the seemingly permanent bruise on his collarbone, caused by years of violin practice, the shoulder rest digging into his collarbone as he played.

Lance yearned to play again, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t let himself. He blamed it all on Keith, who had ruined everything. The rival he was unable to beat, and probably never would.

Turns out, fate had other plans.

Lance had a free period and he spent the hour playing the piano in the choir room, which was empty during that time. He started playing scales to warm up his fingers, when his mind drifted off, and his fingers did their own thing, flying across the keys. 

The door to the choir room swung open, snapping Lance back into reality, and Lance turned around to see his friend Pidge.

“Hey! Allura is looking for you,” said Pidge.

Lance perked up at that. Allura was the _beautiful_ school orchestra teacher, though everyone called her by her first name since she  
wasn’t that much older than them. She had gone to college when she was 15, and graduated early.

Occasionally, Allura would ask Lance to accompany the orchestra on his piano. When he was a freshman, she had tried to recruit him into the orchestra, having heard a violin solo at a competition. He politely declined.

Lance slid off the piano seat and yawned as he stretched. He then proceeded to walk over to Pidge, who had already turned around and started to leave. Pidge was first chair flute in the orchestra.

First chair. The two words caused an old bitterness to stir in Lance’s heart, but he shook it away. He wouldn’t be in orchestra ever again. No more first chair.

The suppressed bitterness came back at full force, threatening to consume Lance whole when he stepped into the orchestra room, and laid his eyes on _him_. A boy, who was unfamiliar, yet so incredibly familiar at the same time. Lance took in a sharp breath.

His body was quicker than his brain in remembering, and Lance wondered why this person put him so on edge. The boy had longer, black hair. In fact, it was practically a mullet. Geez, did this guy not realize what year it was?

Lance surprisingly did not feel like laughing. He felt like he’d met this guy before, he just couldn’t put a name to his face. The boy looked incredibly uncomfortable, since he was standing at the front of the room and all eyes were on him. Some of the eyes had shifted to Pidge and Lance as they stepped inside, but mostly the attention was directed towards the boy.

“Ah, Lance, you’re just in time!” chimed Allura, spotting Lance. “Meet our new addition to the first violin section, Keith Kogane.”

It took Lance exactly one second to process the words he just heard. Once he realized, the polite smile Lance had prepared was wiped off instantly, and it took all his self-control to keep himself from turning and walking right out. 

Keith looked over and they made eye contact. Lance saw no flicker of recognition in his eyes, but Lance dismissed it. Afterall, they had sat next to each other for a whole school year. There was no way Keith didn’t remember him.

Lance took a deep breath, and flashed his best winning grin. Better to make a friend than to make an enemy, right?

Lance walked confidently over to Keith, and held out a hand. “Hey Keith! Long time no see! How have you been?”

Keith blatantly looked Lance up and down, and Lance tried his very, _very_ hardest not to sucker punch Keith right there in front of the class.

“Who are you?”

Lance’s smile wavered, and his nails dug into his palm so hard that he drew blood. He took back his hand, and could feel the stares of the entire goddamn orchestra.

Lance forced a laugh. “You know, from middle school orchestra? Eighth grade? You were first chair and I was second? Dude, buddy, we were stand partners. I sat next to you. For the whole year.”

Keith looked a bit guilty for not remembering Lance, and you could see it on his face as he struggled to remember. After seven painful seconds (Lance counted), realization finally dawned on Keith’s face.

“Ah! I remember you! You’re that violinist who was always glaring at me,” said Keith.

Lance swore he could feel his nails reach bone. “Haha, right, sure,” he managed, his voice fading out.

“Um, okay, well Keith you can take a seat in the back!” interrupted Allura, unable to keep watching this pathetic reunion. “Seating will be decided two weeks before our fall concert. Ah, and Lance, I want you to learn this and it would be amazing if you could accompany the orchestra for the fall concert.”

Lance took the sheet music that Allura handed him. “Good to see you’re looking as beautiful as ever,” he said unashamedly

Lance caught the look of disgust that Keith sent him out of the corner of his eye, and he smirked.

Allura rolled her eyes and pushed Lance gently towards the piano. At least it was probably meant to be gentle, but dang she was strong, and Lance stumbled forward a few steps, before regaining his balance.

He walked over to the piano at the back of the room, and took a seat. He set the music onto the piano and gave it a quick glance to get an overall idea of the tune. It looked easy enough, and seemed like a fun, energetic, fast-paced song.

Lance moved his fingers, lightly tapping out the notes on the keys in silence.

“You don’t play the violin anymore?”

Lance stopped, and turned to see Keith looking at him, his grey blue eyes flushed with innocent curiosity. _Yeah, because of you,_ he thought bitterly.

“I quit after eighth grade. Decided the piano was more to my liking,” lied Lance.

Lance loved the violin. He hated the piano. But he didn’t want to start anew with an instrument that he didn’t know at all, so the piano was his only choice.

“Really? You seemed to be really into the violin though in eighth grade,” noted Keith.

So the guy remembered details like that, but not his name? Lance didn’t get him at all. He responded with a shrug.  
\---

The last two classes of the school day passed by quickly, Lance not paying attention in either. His thoughts were completely on Keith. So they had met again, two rivals (Lance liked to think that it wasn't one sided even though he really knew it was).

Keith had kept playing the violin. Four years. That was four years of improvement that Keith had, and Lance had not touched his violin once in those four years. There was no way he could catch up to Keith now, even if he tried. He had lost. Anger swirled around inside as he reluctantly accepted defeat. But he couldn't accept defeat. What kind of a person would he be if he let Keith win without even trying, just like that?

\--

Lance ran home. Slid inside, slammed the door shut, and sped upstairs, past his very confused mother.

He ran past the piano in the hallway, into his room, swung open his closet, and reached down for his violin case for the first time in four years.

He impatiently unzipped the case, and held his breath when he laid his eyes on the dusty, unused instrument. He picked it up carefully, much like how he had done so long ago. The violin felt foreign in his hands. He was afraid he wouldn’t be able to play anymore, this instrument that he had loved so much and put so much effort into.

Lance bit his lip as he cautiously pulled out his bow and shoulder rest. He carefully pushed the shoulder rest onto the violin, and stood up. He ran his thumb across the strings and plucked. And cringed. His violin was incredibly out of tune. –

It took Lance two minutes to get the strings of his violin pitch perfect. Then he got back into position, setting the bronze colored violin onto his shoulder. With a shaky hand, he set the bow lightly on the string. And he began to play.

You could hear the uncertainty in each note that Lance cranked out. It sounded almost mechanical, devoid of any personal touch or musicality. He tried to remember how to relax, letting his wrist guide the bow up and down, fluid as water. It was hard.  
But his confidence quickly grew as he familiarized himself with the violin once again, and soon Lance couldn’t hear a single difference between how he played now and how he had played the last time. And that was a problem.

There was a literal four year gap between him and Keith. Lance faltered, his bow squeaking to a stop midway. He breathed. There was nothing he could do about that, but the longer he waited, the bigger the gap would grow. He continued playing.

Downstairs, his mother smiled. She had missed the sound of Lance’s violin.

-

When his free period finally arrived, Lance went directly to the orchestra room. When he spotted the piano though, he realized that he hadn’t looked at the music that Allura had given him. He’d spent all his time practicing his violin.

He frantically rushed to the piano and began to sight-read the music, hearing the notes out in the open for the first time. It was easy enough that he was able to play it through slowly, without stopping.

When he had finished, most of the class had already arrived, and were chattering as they unpacked their instruments. Keith was there too, but he sat silently, all his focus directed towards tuning his violin. People made attempts to talk to him but he always answered with one word conversation stoppers. They quickly gave up.

Lance smirked. Keith hadn’t really changed, still the loner.

Allura walked over to give Keith a copy of the music that he was to learn. Lance squinted at it over Keith’s shoulder. It looked hard. It looked fun. Lance felt a familiar longing.

Allura noticed Lance’s stare, and smiled. “Do you want a copy to look over? It’s not too late to join the orchestra.”

He reached his hand out, then pulled it back. It _was_ too late. He wouldn’t be able to stand the humiliation of having such a huge difference in skill with Keith. Ugh, Keith. Everything was Keith’s fault.

Allura saw his hesitation and forced the music into Lance’s hands. “Just take it. It’s not a life changing decision, Lance. You can always change your mind.”

Lance gave in and took the music. It was a life-changing decision.

-

Allura lent Lance her violin, and had him sit in the one empty seat left. Next to Keith. Great. Just great. Not only was he being forced to sit next to his self-proclaimed archenemy, but Keith would be right there to witness just how bad Lance was now.

Lance inched away from Keith and only played at the same time that Keith played, so he wouldn’t have the chance to hear him well. Lance’s brain was frantically trying to keep up with the tempo and his fingers. He winced every time he screwed up a note, which unfortunately for him happened often, and prayed to god that Keith didn’t notice.

But it seemed like nothing was going to go Lance’s way today, and Keith stopped suddenly to turn around and face Lance. Lance froze, his eyes zooming to meet Keith’s as he blinked questioningly. 

“Uh, you keep messing up at this part,” told Keith, using his bow to point at the section in the music.

Lance winced. So he had been listening. 

“Haha, cut a guy some slack alright? I haven’t played the violin in four years,” shot Lance defensively, trying to play it off as a joke. 

Keith furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Then why are you here? Shouldn’t you be in the second violin section?” 

Lance almost scoffed while he tried to ignore the fact that Keith had a point. Keith probably didn't mean to offend him, but he did, and the fact that Keith was completely oblivious to that irritated him beyond belief. 

First violin played the melody, so in the simplest way, it was made up of the better violinists. Second violins were…the rest. 

He’d probably be okay with being a second violin, actually. If Keith weren’t here. But he was here, and the idea of Lance being a second violin, being so much _less_ than Keith, infuriated him. 

“W-well I, uh, I,” stammered Lance, as he desperately searched for a comeback. He settled for a lame “I don’t know.” 

Keith gave Lance a weird look and turned around to continue practicing. Lance clenched his teeth and continued to practice as well. The second time playing the song through went a lot smoother, but Lance could hear Keith and could hear just how much better he was than him. Why am I so bad? thought Lance helplessly, as he tried and failed to imitate Keith’s skill level.

When the period ended, Lance hurriedly returned Allura’s violin, and went to gather up his piano music. On the way out, he threw the first violin music into the recycling bin.


	2. Try

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance plays the piano.

The weekend passed by like a breeze, and Lance fell back into his usual routine, violin forgotten and pushed back into his closet. He practiced his piano for no more than the time required by his teacher, went to piano class, and listened half-heartedly to the criticism that was pummeled at him.

The piano just didn’t click with Lance. He couldn’t fall into the music and just _feel_ it. There was no depth to the music he played on the piano, no emotion to be heard as he tapped away at the keys. There wasn’t as much freedom as there was on the violin, or at least that’s the way it felt to him.

Seeing Keith again after so long, so much better than Lance at what seemed like everything, caused a new wave of hatred to layer over the old. Lance couldn’t get him out of his head. Why did they have to end up at the same high school? Why couldn’t the universe just keep them apart?

The list of reasons for Lance to hate Keith only grew as the new week started.  
-

Lance spent his free period in orchestra again, but he sat at the piano chair. The violin seat next to Keith remained empty.   
They were practicing an excerpt of a song, and Allura asked Keith to demonstrate. Lance could tell that she was eager to get a synopsis of Keith’s skill level. Well, she wouldn’t be disappointed. 

Keith stood up, not an ounce of nervousness showing on his face. He looked perfectly relaxed as he set his bow on the string, a small white cloud of rosin rising into the air at the impact.

Lance had decided to ignore Keith, but after the first few notes, he found himself mesmerized, transfixed, his eyes super-glued to the boy in front of him. Keith was _way_ better than he was four years ago. And in this moment, that fact didn’t matter to Lance. He felt no bitterness or hatred. All there was, was the music. And the music was beautiful.

Each note was crisp, clear, perfect. The melody rang out and echoed through the room. Everyone’s eyes were on Keith, but he didn’t seem to notice. It was as if he thought he was the only person in the world. And it felt that way to Lance too.  
Lance watched as Keith’s body swayed to the music, mullet bobbing slightly. The way the bow glided down the string in a perfect straight line, the way his arm was positioned perfectly as he cranked out those flawless high notes; it was _perfect_. And if there was a word that meant more than perfect, Lance would’ve used that instead.

When Keith finished, the room erupted into applause. And not just polite clapping, but full out whistles and enthusiastic claps out of genuine respect.

Lance wished it never ended. His heart was pounding loudly, and he was a bit disgusted to find something close to admiration growing inside. 

What was this feeling? Jealousy? Disbelief? Denial? Maybe he’d fallen in love. His eyes widened at that thought and he almost spluttered out loud as he frantically moved to correct it. He’d fallen in love with Keith’s playing. Not the guy himself. Obviously. That was clearly it.   
But honestly, who could blame him? When Keith played, people were drawn over. They stopped whatever they were doing, to just listen. The music grabbed and held their attention until it stopped. 

Lance’s fingers were tingling with the all too familiar urge to play. But he ignored it. He couldn’t let himself succumb. He’d put the violin behind him; it was in the past. The piano was his instrument now. That was the choice he’d made, and he wasn’t about to go back on his decision. 

“Thank you Keith, that was beautiful,” said Allura with wholehearted sincerity, after the applause died down. “Okay, now for this piece that we are playing at the fall concert, we have piano accompaniment, which will be done by Lance Mcclain over here!”   
Allura gestured towards Lance, and heads turned towards him. Lance ignored any feelings of self-consciousness, and responded with a grin and a wave. 

“Everyone practice the measures I’ve written on the board while I check in with Lance to see how the piano accompaniment is coming along.”

The once quiet room almost immediately became filled with discordant noise, the chaotic result of 62 people playing their instruments individually.

Allura walked over to Lance. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got!”

Lance nodded and took a deep breath, setting his fingers lightly on the keys. He’d turn the urge to play violin into the urge to play piano. He needed to play impressively. Despite that everyone was practicing their instruments, he knew that once he started playing, the piano sound would rise over the strings and everyone would slowly but surely, stop to listen. He didn’t want to disappoint. He wanted to impress.   
Lance brought his eyes over to his sheet music, and began to play. 

In many ways, the piano was easier than violin. For one thing, all the keys were laid out in front of him so there was no worries about hitting the right note. But the piano’s version of vibrato was stepping on a pedal, and all that did was hold the notes and produce an echo-ey sound. On the violin, vibrato was completely up to you, the intensity and speed; there was so much more freedom. 

But he didn’t play the violin anymore. He played the piano. So he would have to make the best of it. 

Lance played the notes, getting slightly more excited as the pace of the music picked up. He was only the accompaniment, but right now he was playing a solo. When he reached the climax of the piece, with a dynamic level of fortissimo, his hands jumped inches into the air and slammed back down on the keys, the sound harsh and loud but perfectly in character with the song. 

His hands were a little sweaty, his heart racing from exhilaration, and the familiar chill of goosebumps washed over him. He liked this song. Though he probably wouldn’t anymore after practicing it over and over again.

After the climax, Lance grew bored and fell into a daze, letting his thoughts wander, his fingers moving purely out of muscle memory.  
When he finished, the tips of his fingers had a dull ache, and his arms were a bit sore. He yawned and stretched, turning his head over in preparation to receive feedback from Allura. 

That’s when the class started to clap, and he turned around in surprise, having forgotten about them. He smirked and stood up to do a   
dramatic bow, which resulted in the volume of the clapping to increase significantly.   
It’s not that he was looking specifically for his reaction, but out of the corner of eye, he saw Keith clapping as well, his eyes a bit wider than usual (not that Lance knew their usual size because to know that he’d had to have been looking at him a lot and Lance most definitely paid no attention to him.) 

Lance felt a burst of pride in his chest, newfound energy surging through his body with every breath he took. He loved showing off, loved the admiration, the acknowledgement. If he could, he’d choose to soak in it for all of eternity. Of course he didn’t do it often because nobody likes a showoff. But the moments where he _could_ manage to show off, without people thinking he was obnoxious, were the best.

“Very nice Lance, thank you for learning it so quickly! Now, are just a few parts here that…” began Allura, pointing at the music.   
Lance’s train of pride faltered, and he felt his wild flurry of positivity subside back into apathy. He nodded every few seconds, Allura’s words entering one ear and exiting out the other. But she seemed to notice that he wasn’t paying attention to her suggestions, and glared disapprovingly.

“You have the potential to be really great Lance. You just have to try,” she lectured, straightening up and placing a hand on her hip.

Lance pursed his lips slightly, and tried not to roll his eyes.

What was the point in trying? What was the point of anything, honestly, because nothing really mattered? No matter how hard he tried, it would be a waste of time. There’d always be someone better than him. Keith would always be better than him.   
Lance unconsciously clenched his fists, any remaining bits of the happiness he’d felt just moments ago, erased.

“Right, sorry. I am trying,” lied Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven't updated this in so long lmao... .. this was supposed to be longer but i wrote it a while ago and don't have the motivation to finish atm so might as well post it
> 
> obviously this isn't finished yet i still have no idea what the heck is going to happen
> 
> also i didn't revise this so sorry if it's shit


End file.
